


pandemonium

by uselace



Series: teammates, soulmates, lifemates, roommates. [2]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dewis - Freeform, F/F, Fluff, I'm a huge lesbian, PREATH - Freeform, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, USWNT, delivering on my promise of fluff, i'm back on my bullshit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26265418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uselace/pseuds/uselace
Summary: You can only really know someone when you watch them go through hard times, Christen thinks.And after all the bullshit of 2020, she must know Tobin pretty damn well.A continuation of idk you yet from 2016 on, with the added bonus of Krashlyn and Dewis.
Relationships: Ashlyn Harris/Ali Krieger, Rachel Daly/Kristie Mewis, Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Series: teammates, soulmates, lifemates, roommates. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1850812
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43





	pandemonium

**Author's Note:**

> hi. this took way longer than i thought but finally here is 2019 soulmate au edition!! except it also includes everything before 2019, and the chaos that has been 2020. also also, turns out a decade takes longer than i thought to write and also krashlyn did a lot of shit so the first chapter was divided into two parts, part two will be out at some point in the future and will have more krashlyn and some preath. probably should mention that this is pretty much unedited. i hope this is somewhat decent and you manage to enjoy!
> 
> *black lives matter!!! keep signing petitions n shit and please for the love of god vote if you're in the us.*

The needle clicks on and buzzing fills the room. Ashlyn barely registers the sharp pain when ink first reaches her skin. All she can think is  _ finally. _

After two sessions and nearly ten hours, she leaves the shop with flowers covering her side. She can’t stop tracing her fingers over the words surrounded by the colorful blossoms on her ribs;  _ I like your tattoos _ . The first words her soulmate will say to her. Ash is determined to cover her entire body until they come true. 

Her mom nearly has a heart attack when she comes home, but Ashlyn knows that it will all be worth it. 

(She amasses a collection across her body, smiling brightly whenever someone compliments them, but nothing ever comes of it. Until nearly ten years later, when she goes into preseason with a new team expecting nothing but coming out of it with everything.)

—

Ali learned early on to hide her mark. She also learned fairly early what shit means, but mostly because her parents didn’t want her using “oh, shit!” as a greeting whenever she met someone. 

(As a kid she had always just assumed that was a thing people said to each other—after all, according to the words prominently featured on the back of her neck, those were the first words her soulmate would say to her.) 

Throughout school, Ali makes a habit of wearing her hair down constantly to hide the obscenity. She’s been lectured by enough teachers to know that it probably isn’t good to go around showing it off. Even for soccer practice, she only wears a low ponytail in order to cover it as much as possible. It’s not that she’s ashamed of her soulmate, necessarily, but it’s safe to say that when they meet Ali will have a few choice words for her other half.

It’s not until she plays soccer at the college level that she finally starts accepting the words she’s been burdened with. 

And then—

She almost fucking dies. 

The pain in her leg is the worst she’s ever felt, and the prospect of not playing again is terrifying. The month after is for the most part a blur, filled with anesthetic and pain and PT. Except for one moment, crystal-clear, when she was lying in a hospital bed struggling for breath and nobody would tell her if she was dying. The scariest moment of her life was feeling the anesthetic spreading and not knowing if she would wake up again. 

But she did. 

Thank whatever higher power there may be, she woke up. 

It turns out there’s something about literally being on the brink of death that makes you just not give a shit. Ali goes back to practice (after all the physical therapy, of course) with her hair in a high bun and tattoo on full display. She figures that if death is inevitable and life is only just a blip when compared to the vast and uncaring universe, she might as well be comfortable and happy while she’s still alive.

Despite her experience and the multiple existential crises that ensue, Ali continues to be at the top of her game. She practices harder than she ever has before, and the success of the following years along with the feeling of being called up to the national team are almost enough to make her forget about the pain. 

Things are good for Ali for years. She’s at the top of her game, which finally translates into being closer to her family when she moves to the Freedom. Finding a soulmate isn’t really a priority, and frankly neither is romance in general. She’s completely focused on soccer, especially with the new team.

Until a meeting before the Freedom’s pre-season, when she locks eyes with a blonde across the room. She learns later on after stalking social media that the other woman is a new goalkeeper from Florida named Ashlyn. The rest of their meeting is a blur, remembered only in Ali’s mind as striking hazel eyes and bright blonde hair. 

Nonetheless, Ali manages to shake off the image of Ashlyn by their first training session. She does her best to ignore the pull she feels toward the younger woman, and instead works on convincing herself that there’s no way the other woman is her soulmate (or something along the lines of that). There’s no way, because Ali’s soulmate isn’t a woman. 

To be fair, it’s not something she ever really thought about. She had always just been told that being with a man would be normal, and all Ali had ever wanted was some sense of normalcy. That’s why she had always covered her mark—she had learned from a young age that having people’s eyes on you constantly isn’t a good feeling. 

But then again—

There were those two girls on the basketball team at Penn State who had been soulmates. They had seemed happy enough, even normal. And one of her professors had a picture of her wife on her desk. Then, of course, there were all of Kyle’s friends, girls who kissed other girls and seemed so sure that their soulmates would be women. 

Maybe she could be normal.

Maybe that’s why, when Ashlyn is next to her on the sideline of a scrimmage, Ali blurts out, “I like your tattoos,” rushed and accompanied by a blush because  _ have women always been this attractive? _

(The answer, she realizes later, is yes.)

For just a moment, she meets the goalie’s eyes again, and it feels like they’re back in the hotel conference room, staring at each other instead of paying attention. And just like that moment earlier, Ali feels  _ drawn _ towards Ashlyn in a way she can’t begin to describe. 

Unfortunately, their moment is cut short when a stray ball comes hurtling towards the sideline. Ali manages to duck, but the ball hits the goalie directly in the face. Suddenly there’s blood everywhere, people crowding around Ashlyn. The older woman, however, is still standing dumbfounded, rooted to the spot. Because—

Well, because she’s pretty sure she heard Ashlyn yell “oh, shit!” just before the ball hit her. She’s pretty sure that the goosebumps rising on her neck and the blush on her cheeks wouldn’t be there if this was just anyone.

She can’t deny that  _ something _ is happening. And she’s pretty sure that something might be her soulmate.

Ali isn’t exactly proud of the way she exits after Ashlyn gets hit. Practice is nearly over, so it gets cut short in favor of making sure that blood doesn’t end up covering every surface. The older woman seizes her chance and sprints off towards the locker rooms as soon as this is announced, desperate to get away so that she can collect her thoughts and stop the panicking that is inevitably coming. She changes out of her sweaty practice gear in record time, skipping a shower so that she can get out of the locker room as fast as possible.

Halfway to her apartment, Ali pulls into a small park and finds a bench to sink down on. Nausea fills her stomach as she fumbles with her phone, desperate to hear a familiar voice. She knows she had the number of Kyle’s rehab center somewhere in her phone, she just has to find it… 

Finally, she finds the right number, pressing the button to call and sliding further down onto the bench while the phone rings. “Hello? This is Caron Treatment Center, how can I help you?”

“Yes, hi. My name is Ali Krieger, I was wondering if I could talk to Kyle Krieger? He’s my brother.” She tries to ignore the way her hands are shaking as she waits for the receptionist to confirm or deny that she can talk to Kyle. It’s hard to keep track of how long he’s been in rehab, and she knows it’s a long shot that they’ll let him take calls, but he’s the only person Ali can think to talk to. 

Rustling sounds come from the other end of the line, and Ali holds her breath as the receptionist seems to flip through papers. “Ah, here he is. Kyle’s schedule says he’s in group therapy right now, but if you call back later he should be able to talk.”

All at once, it feels like Ali is stranded on an island. Alone with nobody to talk to and a beautiful blonde mirage shimmering a few feet away. She blinks quickly in an effort to hold back tears, trying to steel herself to thank the receptionist. “Wait a minute!” Ali perks up as the man on the other end seems to find something.  _ Please let Kyle talk. _ “Sorry about that, it looks like Kyle actually had a check-in today that ended early, so he should be able to talk for about ten minutes. I’ll patch you through in a second.”

When she hears Kyle’s voice, Ali nearly faints. She knows she doesn’t call enough, and she wishes she could see him in person for once, but just hearing her brother makes everything feel a little bit better. “Ali?”

“Hi, Kyle.” The words are there on the tip of her tongue, but it doesn’t feel right. So instead, Ali changes the trajectory of her sentence at the last minute, landing instead on “How have you been?”

“Actually kind of okay. I got my 90 days sober chip yesterday,” he says. Ali’s heart aches—she can’t help but feel that she should be there for her brother instead of flying around the country, playing soccer and living out her dream. “What’s wrong?”

“I—nothing is wrong, what do you mean?”

“Ali.” Kyle says it matter-of-factly, much more serious than when they first started talking. “You haven’t called since I was first admitted, and it sounds like you’re about to cry. What’s wrong?”

“There’s a girl,” Ali whispers. 

“Honey, is that it? Why did you need to call for that?” Suddenly, Ali is inexplicably brimming with frustration. She knows it’s misplaced, but she’s just so fucking confused; Kyle, on the other hand, has always known exactly who he is and doesn’t seem to see why anybody else wouldn’t. 

Instead of screaming like she wants to, though, Ali takes a deep breath and tries to explain the situation to the best of her abilities. “It’s not just a girl. She’s on the Freedom, and I think…” The words won’t come out (no pun intended). 

“You think what?”

“I think she might be my soulmate,” Ali forces out. 

Silence envelopes the phone, and it’s a bit overwhelming. Ali just slumps back onto the bench, half expecting the world to come crashing down around her. She starts counting seconds in an effort to keep from having a nervous breakdown as Kyle stays quiet.  _ One, two, three, four _ —

“You don’t know what to do, do you?” Kyle finally asks, and as soon as she registers the words Ali thinks she might cry out of relief.

“No,” she admits without missing a beat. “I have no fucking idea.” 

“Welcome to being queer!” Her brother laughs from the other end, and Ali can’t help but chuckle a little bit. “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. It doesn’t matter if you’re a star soccer player or in rehab, straight or gay. None of us fucking know what we’re doing.”

“I—” Ali starts, but Kyle quickly cuts her off.

“Nope, stop right there. I know what you’re going to say. You wanna be normal, right?” Even though Ali knows he can’t see her, she still nods to answer the question. “Sweetie, you’ll never be normal. You’ve spent your whole life working your ass off to get where you are. You almost died. I hate to break it to you, but loving a woman might be the most normal thing about you. And if this mystery woman is your soulmate, then you should probably hang up and get your shit together so you don’t miss your chance.” 

A single tear rolls down Ali’s cheek, and she wishes that Kyle were really with her so that he could make fun of her for being dramatic. (“Ms. Krieger, getting ready for your next movie?” he would tease.) Instead, she wipes it off and takes a deep breath. “Thank you Kyle, really.”

“Anytime, sis.”

“I promise I’ll try to call more.”

“No you won’t,” Kyle laughs. “I know how busy you are. Don’t wait up for me. Look, I have to go, but I love you, okay? Go get your girl.” 

“I love you too,” Ali manages to get out before Kyle hangs up. She still feels way in over her head with the whole soulmate situation, but with her brother’s voice egging her on, she manages to get off the park bench and walk the rest of the way back to her apartment on shaky legs.

To her disappointment, pre-season and getting settled in Washington keeps them both busy enough that Ali doesn’t get her chance to talk to Ashlyn again until much later than she would have liked. After all, accepting herself is a slow process—Ali can’t quite believe that her soulmate is a woman, and a teammate, no less. But getting up the courage to tell Ashlyn is an even slower process.

She starts by introducing herself the first chance she gets, which happens to be at a team bonding event. For the past few days it’s like they’ve been playing chicken; always staring at each other at practices without actually talking to each other. The minute Ali makes her way to the other woman’s side though, she instantly feels safe. “Hey,” Ashlyn says when she notices how close Ali has gotten. She seems surprised, and Ali certainly doesn’t blame her.

“Hi,” Ali starts uncertainly. “Sorry if I scared you, just thought I should finally introduce myself. I’m Ali.”

Ashlyn is grinning as they shake hands, and  _ God _ if Ali doesn’t want to see that smile forever. “Ashlyn Harris. Nice to properly meet you.”

Somehow, in the span of hours and without either of the women noticing, their conversation spirals from discussing soccer positions to their life goals and dreams. It’s impossible, but Ali feels like she knows Ashlyn already. Suddenly, she never wants to lose this woman. 

(They eventually find a booth in the back of the bar where the event was held and stay there for hours, talking about anything and everything. It’s like Ali doesn’t have a filter around Ashlyn, but it’s oddly freeing. Finally the bar owner kicks them out, but they both know they could’ve talked until late into the night.)

After that night, they get close much more rapidly than Ali had ever intended. By the time their first game rolls around, it’s simply a given that they’ll be bus buddies—although they aren’t roommates, something Ali is infinitely thankful for because she might combust otherwise.

“We should do something after the game,” Ashlyn mentions while Ali is staring out the window of the bus that’s taking them to Boston (she knows the league is poor, but sitting on a bus for 8 hours because they can’t afford to fly to every game really enforces that). Before she can stop it, Ali’s mind immediately thinks of a date with the other woman. Ash must notice that she’s short-circuiting, because she quickly backtracks. “Or not, I mean, you’ll probably be tired and I don’t want to bother you or anything…” 

Ali hates when Ash looks even the slightest bit disappointed, so she gets her shit together and chokes out an answer. “No, that would be great—maybe we could go to a beach or something.”

“Maybe.”

The small smile Ashlyn sports for the rest of the bus ride and the way she nods off with her head resting on Ali’s shoulder makes up for the panic Ali initially felt when their maybe-beach-date was suggested. Four hours into the ride, when Ashlyn slumps even further and her head ends up in Ali’s lap, the older woman comes to a realization—

This could be the rest of her life.

And there’s no question about it—she  _ wants _ this to be the rest of her life.

They lose the game. With such a stacked roster, Ali had thought coming into preseason that they would be a powerhouse team, but that hasn’t become a reality. Nonetheless, she shakes off the loss. They’ll have plenty of time to find their groove as a team (also, it’s hard to focus on anything but meeting Ashlyn in a couple hours). 

By the time she’s supposed to make her way to the beach, Ali thinks that she might collapse at any moment. Her hands are very noticeably shaking as she looks around for Ashlyn, and she stuffs them in her pockets while cursing herself for being so nervous about something that (probably) isn’t even a date.

“Ali!” a voice calls, and when Ali looks toward the source her hands stop shaking right then and there. She’s seen Ashlyn outside of practice before, of course, but somehow the younger woman looks different, radiant in a way that makes her impossibly beautiful. Ash is grinning, and Ali quickly walks over and embraces her, breathing in the scent that’s become so comforting. 

While Ali would definitely be fine staying like that for the rest of the night, eventually the two separate. “Should we walk?” Ali suggests after a beat, mouth dry. Ashlyn just nods with a far-away look on her face, and they head down to the water.

It’s clear that the younger woman has something on the tip of her tongue as they stroll through the sand. Ali finds it strange that they just met a couple weeks ago and somehow she can already read Ashlyn perfectly—

But then again, they are soulmates.

_ Soulmates _ .

Ashlyn stops suddenly, mouth open to say something, but Ali is driven by  _ soulmate _ repeating in her head and that fact that, well, she’s wanted to feel Ashlyn’s lips on hers since preseason. So before she can regret it, before Ash can overthink it, Ali grabs the younger woman’s sweatshirt and pulls her into a kiss. It’s not slow, or romantic, as the setting might suggest. Instead, Ashlyn’s tongue has made its way into her mouth, her hands in Ali’s hair, and the older woman has to hold back a moan when the keeper tugs slightly.

“Ithinkwemightbesoulmates,” Ali breathes out when they finally separate. 

To her credit, Ashlyn only looks surprised for a minute before a huge smile appears on her face. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” she whispers.

Now Ali’s the one who’s surprised, and she has to pull the rest of the way back so that she can fully take in Ash’s expression. “Um, care to explain?”

“Sure,” the younger woman chuckles. “Well, first of all, your mark isn’t exactly discreet. I saw it the very first day, when you sprinted out of practice after the ball hit me. But I’ve had a lot of people compliment my tattoos, so I waited a bit to see if you would realize. Then…”

Ash trails off, and Ali has to prompt her. “Then?”

“Then you actually talked to me, and something felt different. I’ve never felt this way around someone, it’s hard to even explain.” Ali can’t help but laugh at the way Ashlyn waves around her hands as she talks, which causes the goalie to pause and pout for a minute. “Anyway, it just felt like the universe was kind of pushing me towards you, I guess. So I thought I would bring it up tonight, and, well…”

This time Ashlyn doesn’t need to finish. Ali can already feel the blush rising to her cheeks as she remembers their rushed kiss. “...Huh,” is all she can think to say, still taking in the fact that she officially has a soulmate.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Ash asks, one hand playing with Ali’s hair.

“How I’m so glad you’re my soulmate and I didn’t make a complete fool of myself,” Ali replies with a grin. Ashlyn just returns the smile, then gently tugs Ali down onto the sand.

They spend the rest of the night like that, wrapped up in each other and thinking about all the possibilities that come with a future together.

—

Kristie Mewis doesn’t expect a welcoming committee when she lands in Texas for the first time. But she also doesn’t expect a lone player in Dash gear, halfheartedly waving a small Texas flag while she looks at her phone. The player doesn’t even look up until Kristie is right in front of her. “Welcome to Houston,” she mutters stiffly before turning on her heel and walking out into the heat.

“Gee, thanks,” Kristie says under her breath before she can stop herself. There’s no question about it—the only person on the Dash with an accent like that is Rachel Daly. She didn’t think the English player would be all cuddles and unicorns (based on her reputation alone that wasn’t realistic); as she jogs to catch up to Rachel, though, she takes note that the other woman doesn’t seem to be someone she wants to spend a lot of time with. 

Unfortunately, avoiding Daly won’t be possible, Kristie learns when she finally locates the other player’s car. “We’re roommates,” she announces as soon as Kristie closes the car door. “I would like it on the record, though, that I did not have a say in it. And if you want to know anything about the team of Houston you’re on your own.” Kristie just gapes as Daly pulls out of her parking space.

This is not how she thought her first day in Houston would go.

The one upside of being iced out by Rachel, Kristie quickly discovers, is that it’s easier to avoid the other player than she thought. Except for rides to the stadium and practices, they manage to stay out of each other’s way. Kristie even does her best to keep her distance during practice, always finding an excuse to be on the other scrimmage team or the other side of the field.

Their unspoken system works well—

Until they’re both called into the coach’s office, and Kristie knows she’s done for. The only explanation is that she’s getting traded again, that Vera saw her play and doesn’t want her anymore. All of a sudden there are a thousand scenarios in her brain—she’s getting let go, she won’t play, her soccer career is over. Each step she takes feels like she’s walking to her doom.

“I need you two to play together,” Vera starts when they enter the office, and Kristie’s hands shake a little bit less. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I hope you both realize that you’ll be on the field together during the season. You’re on the same team, so start acting like it.” 

There’s an awkward pause in which Rachel looks shocked and Kristie is still trying to process that she isn’t being fired. Rachel finally ends it when she says “right then” and pulls Kristie up suddenly, leading her out the door. “What the fuck happened in there?” she whispers harshly the minute they’re out of range.

“Nothing,” Kristie replies defensively. She tries to get out of Rachel’s grip, but the other player pulls her back. 

“I’m serious,” Rachel says, and then, more softly, “are you okay?” 

“I don’t know,” Kristie finally mutters as she sinks down the hallway wall. “I just—it’s stupid, but I thought she was going to trade me again.”

“I’m sorry.” Kristie has to hold back her surprise when she hears the words, although it’s definitely tempting to gasp and make a big deal out of it after everything that’s happened. “I mean, I’m sorry if I made you feel unwelcome. I get that I can come off a bit…”

“Like an asshole?” Kristie supplies.

“Yeah,” Rachel chuckles. “I can definitely come off as an arsehole. I was an arsehole, really, and there’s no excuse. But, I hope we can still play together. There’s a reason Coach wanted you, y’know.” And then, because her day is full of surprises, Rachel helps her up and manages to make conversation all the way back to their apartment.

It happens gradually after that. They start practicing together more, of course, and it turns out that alone they were good, but together—together, they’re a menace. Time on the field shifts to time off the field; somehow in the time before the season starts they go from roommates to teammates to proper friends.

And Kristie quickly discovers that Rachel is a very good friend to have. They have a kind of fluid dynamic, one that makes for easy conversation and deadly plays on the pitch. 

The night before the official start to the season is the first point Kristie thinks they might be something more than friends. Both of them have gotten into the habit of staying up late to talk about anything that comes up. It’s normal enough for roommates—

But then Kristie wakes up next to Rachel and promptly panics. 

(Sam is absolutely no help on the matter, and Kristie immensely regrets showing her the “and they were roommates” video.)

Later, Kristie manages to calm down a bit. She was so exhausted from practice yesterday that she must have just fallen asleep with Rachel, nothing more to it. Rachel doesn’t even bring it up, so Kristie relegates the morning to the back of her mind and tries to focus on their upcoming games.

Houston gets off to a decent start, beating the Red Stars 2-0. Everyone rides the high of winning until they lose to the Reign 5-1 just a week later. If you’re a professional athlete, you pretty much have to hate losing, but that night Kristie learns that Rachel takes it particularly hard.

She’s just getting settled in her hotel room (she got lucky with a single room for once) when a quiet knock comes from the door. At first she tries to ignore it, chalking it up to a mistake, but then it comes again, more insistent this time. 

“Hi,” Rachel says quietly when Kristie finally drags herself out of bed to open the door. “So, this is kind of weird, but, um, I was wondering if I could sleep with you?” 

It only takes a minute for Rachel to process what she said and her ears to go bright red, but Kristie just sighs and waves her in before she can panic. They both pass out almost immediately, but Kristie will forever deny that she had one of the best nights of sleep of her life.

Their transition from friends to something undeniably  _ more  _ is very similar to their transition from kind-of-enemies to friends. At first, Rachel only makes her way to Kristie’s hotel room when they lose. After a while, though, she’s also there when they win, curled into Kristie’s side and making coffee in the mornings. Soon enough, they’re in the same bed every night, even back in their own apartment. The whole thing feels natural and safe, and they create a sort of bubble for themselves at nighttime where nothing else matters.

Even though some part of Kristie wishes that something more would happen, she brushes off the notion. It’s ridiculous to think that her soulmate would be a teammate, after all. It just doesn’t work like that, she tries to rationalize to herself. But her excuses get weaker and weaker as she and Rachel get closer and closer, until—

At first, nothing about the night leads Kristie to believe that it would be different.

Rachel climbs into her bed, sharp elbows poking Kristie's side as they get settled, just like always. But even as the Englishwoman turns around and tucks her head into the hollow of Kristie's throat, she can feel some kind of tension in the air around them. It doesn't help when she feels Rachel's breath on her skin, warm and soft just like Rachel herself on these late nights.

(It helps even less that soon after Rachel gets situated she pulls Kristie's arms around her so that they're curled around each other, legs tangled near the bottom of the bed.)

And there's no way Kristie is sleeping now, not like this, with Rachel so close. It feels like her heart might stop any minute. So she tries to wait it out. She waits for Rachel's breathing to deepen and even out, one of the telltale signs the other woman has fallen asleep. She waits for Rachel to inevitably spread out across the bed, to let go and give her some space.

It doesn't happen.

Maybe it's because she's a little drunk on the tension surrounding them (not to mention their win against the Breakers and a lack of sleep). Maybe that's why when Rachel finally lifts her head and asks, softly and in that damn accent, "Where's your mark?" Kristie only hesitates a second before turning around and pulling her shirt off. 

Absolutely nothing, though, could prepare her for the feeling of Rachel's fingers trailing down her spine, feeling the words inked there. Kristie can barely withhold a shiver, and she knows that the goosebumps erupting on her back are betraying her. Finally having Rachel's hands on her, even like this, makes Kristie's heart hammer in her ears.

"...Kris," Rachel croaks out after a minute. Kristie immediately turns around, worried that she fucked up whatever was happening between them, but Rachel is wearing a lopsided smile and showing off her ankle. And-

Well,  _ fuck _ .

For a solid minute, Kristie just looks back and forth between Rachel's ankle and her face. She can't seem to comprehend the words she's seeing there. All that comes out when she tries to say something is a squeak, so she licks her lips, clears her throat, and tries again. "Do you—are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I'm thinking that this seems very similar to our first conversation," Rachel whispers. "I think... well, I could be very wrong, but I think this can only really mean one thing."

Kristie has to look away. She closes her eyes and flops back onto the bed, taking a deep breath to try and keep herself from hyperventilating. The room seems unnaturally quiet, but after a moment Rachel's raspy voice fills it up again. "Are you not happy?" And it's only then that Kristie realizes what this must look like. 

Immediately, she bolts back upright and takes Rachel's face in her hands, clearly surprising both of them. It's almost overwhelming, the fact that she can just stare at the Englishwoman, and hold her, and hopefully one day kiss her without being weird. "God, no, Rachie, of course I'm happy," Kristie starts, and the other woman immediately relaxes, allowing herself to sink into Kristie's hands. "I mean, honestly, I'm fucking ecstatic. But it's also the middle of the night. And this... this is a lot to take in. Not in a bad way!" She's quick to add. "How about we sleep for now, and we can talk about this in the morning?"

Rachel just nods slowly, clearly also tired. Kristie guides them both back down to the bed, pulling the other woman close. She realizes as cold air hits her back that she never put a shirt back on, but Rachel has already latched onto her torso and it's too late now. 

Of course, the cold air has nothing to do with the tingle running down her spine as Rachel finally starts to sleep for real this time.

_ Please, don't let this be a hallucination. _

—

Somehow, Rachel discovers, being soulmates doesn’t change much about her and Kristie. If anything, they’re better than they were before. As anyone on the Dash will attest, they’re good for each other (and by extension, the team; Houston has never looked stronger).

Between English national team duties and practices for the Dash, they’re always busy, but they learn to make time together. And eventually, on a whim, they get a dog.

(Of course, it’s only after they bring Dexi home that they learn their building doesn’t allow pets, so logically they find a place a couple blocks away from the team complex and properly move in together.)

It’s easy to be around Kristie. Easier than any of her other girlfriends, Rachel thinks, which isn’t surprising since they’re something more than girlfriends. Still, being with Kristie is better than Rachel ever could have expected.

After their 2017 season wraps up, Rachel is the one who suggests they take a trip together. Kristie in turn suggests Boston, her hometown, and upon seeing how excited her girlfriend is to introduce her to family, Rachel knows that she can’t say no. Luckily, the Mewises are extremely welcoming, and for the first time Rachel thinks that she could settle down with Kristie. More than once during the trip she finds herself picturing holidays with them, becoming a part of the family along with the other soulmates.

On their last day in Boston, Kristie insists on going to the Arnold Arboretum. Rachel is reluctant at first, but gets wrapped up in the gardens after a while. They spend the morning just wandering around, taking it all in. 

More often than not, though, Rachel finds herself focusing on Kristie.

She only gets caught once, when they’re in the Explorers Garden and Kristie turns with a funny look on her face. “What are you staring at?”

“I just like looking at you,” Rachel replies softly. “I kind of love you.”

Kristie freezes, and Rachel just knows that she probably looks terrified. But, after a moment, Kristie’s shoulders relax, and her lopsided smile returns. “I kind of love you too, Rachie. Geez, I just assumed it was a given.” 

It feels good to be able to kiss Kristie whenever she wants. After their trip, it feels even better to tell Kristie how much she loves her. Rachel feels  _ good _ with this. They’ve created a little life for themselves, one that Rachel wouldn’t mind staying in forever.

Preseason comes and goes, and once more they settle into a routine of soccer and workouts and each other. Rachel is determined to show the world that the Dash is something special, and with Kristie by her side she knows they can do it. 

It all falls apart a little bit when Kristie goes down. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel watches as Kristie falls. She wants to scream at the ref to stop play as Kristie stays on the ground, clutching her knee. When the whistle finally blows, Rachel is the first one over to Kristie. She absolutely hates seeing Kristie in pain, and clutches her hand through the evaluation. When the American finally gets up, Rachel breathes a sigh of relief and makes her way back to the field.

That relief doesn’t last long. Rachel has to hold herself back from yelling at the coaching staff when Kristie comes back into the game. Why the fuck would anyone sub her in? Once again, Rachel makes sure that Kristie is always in her peripheral vision. 

Not even a minute after she’s subbed on, Kristie goes down for a second time.

This time, it doesn’t look like she’ll get up.

Rachel races across the field to get to her girlfriend, who’s clearly in pain. She’s never seen Kristie like this, and she desperately hopes that she’ll never have to see it again. After a minute the trainer calls over a stretcher. Rachel stays by Kristie’s side until she’s being carried off, and even then a part of her brain can’t help but worry about the player.

The game is barely over when Rachel races back to the locker room and grabs her keys. It’s a miracle that she doesn’t get pulled over for speeding as she rushes to the hospital where Kristie will be. By the time she gets there, Kristie is knocked out on pain meds, but Rachel settles in anyway, determined to stay. “I love you,” she whispers for no one in particular to hear. “We’ll get through this.”

Dexi is ecstatic when her moms finally come home from the hospital two days later. Kristie has been quieter than usual ever since she woke up and was supplied with crutches and a boot, so Rachel takes it upon herself to fill in the silence. That night, after Kristie has gotten settled in bed, she turns and murmurs “thank you for being there.”

“Of course,” Rachel replies, accompanying it with a kiss to her girlfriend’s forehead. 

They do get through it, eventually. It takes a lot of physical therapy and long days for Rachel spent driving back and forth between the stadium and Kristie’s PT, but they get through it. Kristie comes back stronger than ever, even if Rachel would have liked her to stay off the field for just a while longer, to give her more time to recover.

Watching all this, Rachel realizes that she’s so lucky to experience the elder Mewis. She’s so damn thankful that this is her soulmate, the person she gets to spend the rest of her life with. “I love you,” she reminds Kristie softly one quiet morning when they’re on the couch watching a Dynamo match. 

“I know.”

Right then, Rachel makes it her mission to make sure that Kristie never forgets.

**Author's Note:**

> i very much hope this is coherent. stay tuned for future chapters but also don't because they will be very inconsistent. don't worry, there will be a lot more fluff coming. comment please it makes me happy!


End file.
